In This World
by Raincatcher13
Summary: In this world, there is heaven and hell, life and death, and Prussia has been sent back to the world for a second chance. But the only thing he wants to do is save his little brother before this world he's in destroys him.
1. Rainstorm

A/N- Ooohh, my first FanFic! Woo to the hoo! Please no flames! And I'm sorry if it's terrible. Also... I can't find the exact date, because different sources keep saying different dates, but I'm going with this one, that Prussia was officially dissolved in 1947?

* * *

There are lots of things I hate.

First of all, I hate Russians. Well, ja, not _Russians, _because that'd be pretty stereotypical and some of the Russians I've met have been very kind and helpful. Like, it'd piss me off if someone said, I hate Germans, or I hate Prussians. It's just not awesome. More specifically I hate Russia- _the _Mother Russia, Ivan Braginsky.

I also hate the taste of blood. It brings back bad memories.

Most of all, I hate the smell of roses.

Roses were the scent I smelled as I took my last breath, as my heart stopped. That was the smell that was in Germany's house the day I died.

"Don't cry," I had said shakily. "Bruder, it's not awesome. It doesn't suit you."

"I'm not crying," Germany had replied. "I'm not, Prussia."

"Bruder..."

* * *

When I came to, I found myself in some kind of field. The sky is gray, like rain should be coming but there's no humidity at all. The temperature is cool, and the grass is green, not prickly. White flowers bloom, scattered across the field at random intervals.

"Hallo?" I scream as loud as I can.

No answer.

Nowhere to go. "Scheißen," I spit angrily. "Where am I?"

I must be in heaven or some sort of afterlife, and it sounds stupid, but my first thought was, Do I have wings? Nein, I checked.

The last thing I remember was Germany, Deutschland, West, Bruder, whatever you'll call him, hugging me. He was crying, I can almost swear. My last days were a blur- 1947, I was just clinging onto life when I found I was going to be dissolved, for real this time, and I had about a month to do whatever I wanted.

So I had a month days to fill out my bucket list- the thing I had spent a while making, and I had hundreds of years to do it all, but never did any of it.

My last days of life were by far the best. I forced so much adrenaline into my body I couldn't even think about what was to come. I traveled the world, spending one night in each place, using up all my money. I started bar fights. I went up on the Eiffel Tower with France to say my goodbyes, and we took a box full of Euros and dumped them over the side, watching them rain down, people staring up in wonder.

I said goodbye to my loved ones (okay, fine, that includes Hungary).

I set Russia's house on fire, watching the smoke and flames curl up over the snow. Laughing, then running.

If I could have lived my entire life like I lived the last month of it, I would have never wanted anything ever again.

I decide not to leave the field. Nobody comes, either, and the sky never darkens, even when lightning splits the sky, lighting things up so bright it's like the clouds are gone.

Rain pours down, but right before a drop hits me, the air shudders. The world- or afterlife, or whatever- freezes into a stop, and the raindrops hang suspended in the sky, not moving, hovering just in front of my face, across the field, still.

It's so beautiful, like someone took ten million tiny diamonds and hung them from the sky.

I reach out in wonder, my red eyes wide, and touch a raindrop with my finger. It dissolves slowly, leaving no trace of water on my fingertip. One by one, the drops disintegrate slowly, fading away like a movie transition, leaving the sky clear but still gray.

I'm sitting down already, but I lower myself onto the ground. It's still dry.

"Mein Gott," I whisper.

Where am I?


	2. Russia?

"Prussia. Prussia? Prussia!"

"Ja!" I jolt awake and flail around, and I have the sense of falling, as soon as it start's it's over and I crash against the floor, landing hard.

"Verdammt!"

"Prussia? You are okay, da? You fell pretty hard..."

Russian accent.

Russia.

"I'm sorry!" I scream loudly, curling up out of instinct. "I'm really sorry, you fat, ungrateful Commie! Whatever it is, I didn't do it! Must've been Latvia- the clumsy child! Leave me alone! Please!"

I peek up and see Russia staring at me, confused. "Prussia? Are you okay?"

"..." I slowly get up off the floor. "You asshole, what are you looking at?" I bark. "It's not like it's cool to curl up in self-defense, but you're so unawesome, so cowardly."

Russia is staring at me, very confused. "Prussia, you must have had a nightmare. It is really alright. Would you like some breakfast?"

"Breakfast." I repeat the word. It sounds funny, weird on my tongue somehow. When Russia kept me at his house, I got breakfast, but I was confined in a room.

"Da."

I scratch my head slowly. "Um... sure? One second." Russia's acting too friendly, but that's not the important question. How the hell did I get here?

I start to walk to the attached bathroom and look back, expecting Russia to laugh and say, no, I'm staying in this room, but he's just watching me with a concerned expression on his face.

I brush my teeth and get dressed in a T-shirt, a jacket and a pair of jeans quickly, walking downstairs cautiously. Russia could be planning to ambush me or something.

But no, he's sitting at the huge kitchen table, drinking coffee-vodka and scanning over a newspaper.

"Ahh, Pruss-ia! I made some breakfast."

"Danke..." I sit down and butter a piece of toast very slowly, my eyes on Russia the whole time. "Um, Russia? Could I maybe use the telephone?" I'm thinking about calling West, or maybe France or Spain. Someone needs to help me get out of here before the psychopathic Russian man smashes a pipe through my skull.

Russia blinks. "Da, of course. But don't you have your phone? I thought I saw it on the nightstand? But go ahead."

"My phone?"

It suddenly hits me. All of the technology I missed, all the knowledge that slipped through my fingers in the decades and decades I was gone. Enlightenment, perhaps? I feel like I know everything.

At least, present technology-related.

But wasn't I only in the field for one day?

"I'll be right back," I say, running up the stairs, grabbing my phone off the nightstand. I type in France's number with shaky fingers.

"Bonjour?"

"France! It's me."

"Who?"

"The awesome Prussia!" I exclaim, insulted he didn't realize it.

"Well, go away," France says, his voice edged with hate. "I thought you were done bragging about everything you had?"

"Everything I... France, listen! I'm at Russia's"-

"What else is new? You two in a relationship now? Prussia, please. Hang up. Why are you even calling me?"

"I... sorry." I hang up and sit on the un-made bed. Something about the call is very disturbing.

France acted like we were enemies.

But with the Russia thing... _What else is new? You two in a relationship now?_

What type of hell hole had I been dumped in? And where were the Baltics? Usually they were trembling around, asking if they could do anything for Mr. R-Russia.

I run back down the stairs. Russia glances at me.

"Russia, what happened yesterday?"

"Hmm?" Russia looks confused. "Um, you flew in. Remember, you're on vacation, da. So it's okay to relax."

"Relax?" I spit. "How can I _relax _with _you _here?"

Russia looks hurt. "You dislike me, Prussia?"

"Nein! I _hate _you!"

Russia's violet eyes widen slightly. "Why?"

_"WHY?" _My voice is dripping with so much sarcasm and shock I can literally hear it. "You imprisoned me, beat me, and now I'm here in your house, and you're acting like everything's just fine..."

"Beat you? When?" Russia sounds horrified. "You are acting weird, da. You"-

"I'm fucking dead!"

Silence. We fall into silence, and I'm brutally aware of how lost Russia looks, how fast my heart is beating.

"Nyet."

"Ja! I _am!"_

"You need to lie down more? That's okay. Just go back to sleep." Russia's trying to be kind, trying to act like I haven't flipped my lid.

"Don't you have a clue, you Communist"-

Russia's face hardens. "Excuse me?"

"I... I... War... is bad..."

Russia grabs both of my wrists. "Prussia, what are you talking about?"

"World War Two... I'm dead, I'm dead."

"Prussia, calm down. You are not dead."

"I need to call Bruder- let me go- I need my phone- West, West..." I'm crying now, I'm such a freaking wimp, but I seriously can't handle it.

"Prussia. East."

"Let me go."

"Prussia, there is no"-

"LET ME GO!"

When I was imprisoned, Russia would grab my wrists like this before he beat me, so it's sending panic through me. I'm a lot stronger at the moment, and I knee him in the stomach so hard he falls back.

"Prussia," Russia says. "Who do you need to call?"

"Germany! Bruder! West! You know!"

Russia frowns. "Did you hit your head?"

"Nein, you idiot! Why?"

"Germany died a long time ago, Prussia."


	3. Haters Unite

"S-sorry," I say, laughing. "What?"

"You know." Russia stares at me blankly.

"No, I don't," I reply, frustrated. "Germany's on the map- next to France and Austria"-

"Prussia, that's _you," _Russia insists.

"Get me a map."

Russia does; he walks out of the room and returns a moment later unfolding a piece of paper, spreading it down on the table over the newspaper.

I glance to Europe. The normal countries are there- France, Italy, England- but there is no Germany. There's Prussia, and to the north of that, Denmark. But no Germany.

I sink to my knees, forehead touching the cool tile floor.

Somewhere, far away, I hear Russia saying, "Prussia, it will be okay. I am not quite sure what is wrong, but we can get through it, da?"

"Never," I scream. Because now I'm pretty sure I died and came back to life in some sort of twisted alternate universe, and my brother is dead, and Russia is my friend.

_No, Russia. No, nein, nyet, non, whatever you want to say. This is never going to work._

* * *

"...Prussia."

I'm standing near the kitchen doorway, and I hear voices. Russia and...?

"Prussia's here." Russia.

"Well, that's no surprise." Hold on.

"I know. But he's acting very strange."

"He's always acting strange, Russia. What's new?" The second voice is definitely a guy's. It sounds familiar, but tormented somehow. It's not France, for sure.

"He's talking about World War Two, calling me a Communist."

"That is kind of strange... I mean, Prussia doesn't do stuff like that so much. Is he upset?"

"I don't know. But the weird thing, da..."

"What?"

"When he woke up, he was positive Germany was alive."

"That's because Bruder _is _alive!" I burst through the doorway. Russia looks up in surprise, and I see America sitting there, sipping a Coke, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Hmm? Dude, get a grip," America snarls unhappily. "Can't handle me being around your man, huh? Well, get used to it. I'm gonna be around here a lot."

My man? "I thought we were friends, so that's okay, mein Gott," I mutter, rolling my eyes. "There's no need to flip out."

America jumps up and slams me against the wall, his arm over my throat.

"Hey!" Russia exclaims.

America looks different. The carefree, ignorant light usually shining in his blue eyes is gone, replaced by hate and pain.

"America?" I ask, my eyes narrow.

In response, he punches me in the face.

"Watch it!" I growl, putting a hand to my jaw, kneeing America in the stomach. He coughs and steps back, glaring at me.

"Hey!" Russia shoves himself between America and me.

"That fat pig started it," I snarl.

"Fat pig? Oh but Prussia that's you," America replies.

"What? No, it's not. I'm not the one shoving burgers down my throat 24/7."

America looks dumbstruck. _"Who's _doing _what?"_

"Prussia. America. Stop. America, I think you can go now."

"I just got here. You think I blew off a bunch of money just to see Prussia's ugly face? Nope, I did not."

"America. Just... go drive around. Now, please." Russia's voice is pleading. America slams the door shut, leaving, and I hear a car engine rumble to life. My jaw hurts.

"What was that? You _knew _America was coming," Russia says.

"I did not! First off, what's up with him? Man PMS? Ameria and I are s'posed to be friends."

Russia looks sick. "Since when? You hate each other."

"Oh, yeah?"

"He wouldn't forgive you," Russia says. "Not after you completely destroyed his country."


	4. America's Case

"I did what?" I spit out. "I did nothing."

"Oh, Prussia." Russia frowns and pats my head. I step back.

Russia takes a deep breath. "I'm just going to pretend like you don't know anything, da?"

"Well, clearly I don't."

"Okay. Okay." Russia holds a hand up. "Do you know what World War Two was?"

I nod.

"And the results?"

"Not... not exactly."

"Let's start there, da? Results of World War Two. Germany, dissolved. Prussia, strengthened. Japan fell into severe debt. He's alright now, though."

So, did Japan take the consequences Germany had the first time around?

Russia continues. "America became the strongest country in power."

"Really?"

"Da. But then, as all great nations do, he fell. He fell hard. Because you attacked him, Prussia. Everyone stayed clear of it- nobody wanted to get involved in another war, because they were all still recovering. His government fell, and the place is a total wreck now."

Even though many countries found him annoying, I suddenly miss the _real _America, the _old _America. The ungrateful jerk with too much money and too many McDonald's. The America who always teased England and was friends with me. That's who I miss.

So it's my fault he's ruined. But how? I have no recollection of this life. Maybe it's a dream. I remember the field I was in, the place where rain froze. What is happening to me?

I stand up. "I need to go."

"Go where?"

"Um... I don't know. Russia?"

"Da?"

"What if I told you I was supposed to die a long time ago? What if I come from a world where Germany was real and a desired destination, and America was still a stable nation, and you used to torture me?"

"Prussia..." Russia looks sad. "I don't know where you're getting all this from."

I touch the base of my throat. Under my T-shirt I can feel the coldness of a silver chain.

The Iron Cross.

Somehow I still have it with me.

"Russia, do you have a pipe?"

Russia's brow furrows. "What?"

"A... you know..." I sigh. "You know, a metal pipe you use to bash the living shit out of people." I don't know how many times that cursed thing broke my bones.

"Sorry?"

"Fine, whatever." I take off my necklace. "This look familiar?"

Russia raises an eyebrow. "The Iron Cross, da?"

"Ja. Well, I'm leaving now"-

"Wait! Where are you going?" Russia grabs me, and I tense up.

I sigh. "I don't know. I can't stand to stay here, though, if America's going to be here. Not awesome. Especially after what I did."

Russia sighs. "We should go walk around town!"

I snort skeptically. "Ahh, it's like freezing out there."

"So?"

* * *

I laugh, drinking the my hot chocolate. It's scalding, but the air is so cold, the snow clinging to my jacket, I'm freezing.

We've been walking the streets of Moscow, Russia taking me into some of the best stores, and we stopped to get drinks a couple of minutes ago.

Russia smiles. I realize I've never spent any peaceful time with Russia. He's not so bad. But maybe this isn't the real him. Everyone seems kind of messed up in this universe.

Russia's smile drops away in an instant, and I see his violet eyes grow dark. It's like an ominous, creepy aura is emanating from him.

"Was? Was?"

I ask, glancing around. I see a man approaching us. He's not a country, and for a human, he looks around my age, maybe a year younger or so.

"Prussia," Russia says quietly. "I'm going to stall for time. I want you to run, da?"

"W-What?" I grip my hot chocolate tighter. "Why?"

"Don't ask questions, Prussia. Just... Oh, privet!" Russia's not talking to me anymore, and I start to edge away slowly.

"Hello, Russia. It's nice to see you." The man looks up. "Prussia!"

Russia jumps forwards. "Run! Prussia, ru"- I see the Slavic nation get punched in the face, but he jumps back up, backhanding the unfamiliar man. Russia's nose is bleeding, and red hot blood hits the layer of snow covering the street.

I don't need any more encouragement. I dash away as fast as I can, dropping my drink. I can hear the Russian locals stopping, a couple people hesitantly taking out cell phones, watching.

A couple of blocks away, I collapse. There are plenty of people around, so I brush snow off of a bench and sit down, breathing heavily.

For the first time, I'm wondering: Why is Russia protecting me?


	5. Where He Lies

A/N- Thank you for all the reviews- I seriously wasn't expecting any! And for you, a long-ish chapter!

* * *

I look up as someone plops down next to me.

"The asshole lives."

"Excuse me?" I snarl. America. Of course. "What are you even doing here?"

"I already said, Russia and I were supposed to have a meeting, that was until he chased me out of his house. How was I supposed to know you'd be here?"

I sigh. "I thought"-

"Wait," America says. "Okay, fine. I'm a little sorry I punched you earlier." Subconsciously I touch my jaw as America continues. "I was just... I don't know. I guess I was upset that you were trying to act like"- America pauses. "Alright, look. We're not friends, Prussia. You should know that."

"Nein, nein." I wave my hands. "I'm sorry. I heard I destroyed your country."

"You _heard?"_America glares at me.

I debate whether or not to mention the 'Real World,' but since Russia, who is apparently my friend here, hardly believed me, I doubt America would cut me any slack.

I hate how he talks to me like I'm disgusting. It's like how I used to talk to Russia.

"Ja," I say. "I'm sorry."

"I'm going to Russia's house," America says, standing up. "I'm sorry, but I can't stand to look at you. I made plans first. Go find some hotel to sleep in."

I feel defeated, but I suppose that's how things are now. I don't want another fight with America, perhaps I should just give him what he wants. "Okay. America?"

He stops for a moment. "What?"

And it hits me. What he wants is Russia. He shouldn't get that.

"I'm seriously sorry."

"We're all sorry." Then he turns around and keeps walking.

* * *

_Come on, pick up, pick up..._

It's not until the third ring that Russia picks up the phone.

"Prussia?"

"Russia, it's me. Are you alright?" I can't say I especially like the stupid old Russian yet, but he seems okay, at least when you're on his side.

"Da, I'm fine, I'm fine."

I sigh. "Who _was_ that?"

"Oh..." Russia pauses. "Oh, nobody."

"I'm serious," I growl. "Who was that?"

"You really don't know?"

"Hell no! Just spit it out!'

I hear Russia sigh loudly. I'm worried he'll take advantage of my... condition... and not say anything, or maybe lie. "That guy is named Stefan. He really wants to be your boss." But I can tell now he's not lying.

"What? It doesn't even look like he's twenty-five yet."

"Da. Anyways, Stefan wants to take control over Prussia. Expand its borders."

"This is supposed to be a semi-peaceful time." I sigh. "Why did he punch you?"

"Your boss right now isn't letting Stefan anywhere near you. So he's been tracking you down."

"Wunderbar. I've got a stalker now, or what? Not so awesome." I try to consider things. "Why isn't anybody letting him be my boss?"

_"Think, _Prussia. It would very much disturb the peace. And besides, look at America. Look at... The Roman Empire. If something gets too big, it will inevitably fall."

"America wasn't supposed to fall," I say. If I were dead...

And it hits me. Maybe if I'm dead, things will go back to normal. Germany will be flourishing, having paid off the debts of the Treaty of Versailles, France will miss me, America will be strong again. "Russia! We've got to let Stefan"-

"No." Russia's voice is cold, annoyed.

"What? Why not?"

"Because," Russia says.

"Great one, Russia! You should be a lawyer!" I scowl.

Russia's growing agitated. "No, Prussia. Don't discuss this any further. I do not want you dead." He hangs up, and I lean back on the bench, watching snow fall down from the gray sky.

_Fine, Russia. We can play like this. If you're not going to let me die, I'll find a way to do it myself._

I know Russia's probably taken care of Stefan by now, but I decide to use my time to do other things than hunt down my own stalker.

I do call Russia, though, again. To ask him where something I want to see is. He tells me if I really want to see this, to get on a plane, fly to Prussia, and it should be marked with _Ludwig Beilschmidt, Germany. _If you are a country, your identity is kept secret, so nobody would know what the 'Germany' part means.

I follow Russia's instructions carefully, until I find myself at the gate. I'll explore my country later. Not now.

It's a sad little place, this graveyard. Row upon row of gray headstones, black leafless trees, mist curling off the ground. I shiver.

What had Russia sad? Third row to my right, twenty five down.

_Ludwig Beilschmidt_  
_Germany_  
_To a long life, a longer life ahead, loved by many_

There is no date. The dates would be absurd if they were there. No human could live remotely as long as Germany did.

Germany's grave is empty except for a lone rose, starting to curl around the edges. Italy or Japan probably brought it, if history is any way at all like how I remember it. I didn't get the full lesson from Russia.

I don't cry a lot. Even when I was stuck with Russia for those years, I only cried once or twice. But now I let it all out. There's always the possibility that things will never go back to normal.

Maybe it's my imagination, but I swear I feel Germany, just a little, and some of my stress goes away.

_"Prussia?"_

I freeze. I didn't want anyone to see me cry... especially not this person. I can't let this person see me crushed by weakness.

I stand slowly. My leg aches and I sniffle. "Hungary."


	6. Willkommen!

"Were you crying?"

"N-nein!" I look away from her.

"Oh, Prussia... Are you alright?"

"Of course I am!" I snort. "Of course."

Hungary tilts her head. "Are you feeling well?"

"Hmm?"

"Russia told me you were over here... and you've, um..." she swirls a strand of brown hair around her index finger. "You had maybe lost some memories or something?"

"Not really," I say. "But I'm going home now."

"Do you know where that is?"

I nod. Weirdly enough, I do know where my house is here. And it's not in West's basement. "Ja. I can get home from here, I think."

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asks.

"Sure," I mutter, deflated. Maybe I can get a real history lesson from her instead trying to make sense of what a pissed-off American and the evasive Russian say.

"I'm going to make you some potatoes and wurst, oh?" Hungary says, reaching into my cabinets. I sit at the kitchen table. "Ja, knock yourself out."

"So, what happened?" Hungary asks.

"Oh... you know, this and that," I reply, taking a sip of beer so I won't have to talk.

"Nonsense!" she exclaims, and I can see a tiny spark of the old Hungary rising to the surface, removing the layer of sweetness and kindness for just a moment. "Tell me what happened."

I raise both my hands. "Look, I don't know how to explain. And if I did, you wouldn't believe me. The awesome me has no time to humor people who won't even listen to me."

"But I will listen." Hungary turns away from the potatoes and puts her hands on her hips. "And I'll try my hardest to believe you. So go ahead!"

"Fine," I say. "In 1939, World War Two..."

* * *

I had explained everything to Hungary and I had climbed up to bed, offering to let her stay in one of the guest rooms. She said okay, and I hear the shower running in the other room.

This time when I dream, I'm in the field again.

The sky is still a gray color, on the brink of rain, but the air is cool and soothing. I let the breeze ripple through my hair.

"Prußen."

"Deutschland...?" I turn, knowing it will be Germany. But before I can see his face, I wake up.

"Dammit!" I yell in anger. Hungary comes running. "Are you okay?"

"I'm. Fine." I bury my face in the pillow.

I know Hungary is staring at me, so I roll over, get up, and start to brush my teeth. "Shtop l'king at me like th't," I mumble.

"Like what?"

"Like _that," _I say, narrowing my eyes. "Like you think I shoud be sent to a mental hospital."

"Oh no," she says, "I don't think that. I'm just a little confused on what you said yesterday."

"You don't believe me," I say.

She shakes her head. "No, I do."

I blink. "You do?"

"I do." She sits on the edge of my bed, watching as I comb through my hair in the bathroom. "I just... I don't know how it's possible for the two worlds to exist at once. This world, and the world you were in."

"I don't know if it's real or not," I say.

"If what's real or not?"

"I don't know, you see, that's the problem." I sigh. "I should probably be getting back to Russia by now."

"Hey, Prussia?" Her voice is unusually sweet, and she's grinning.

"Hmm?"

"Can I say something I wouldn't usually say? I mean, it would be something that the Hungary you know would say. But I really do think it myself, too!"

"Sure." She's confusing.

She smiles so wide I can see all of her teeth. "Prussia, you're a bastard."

Ahh, _there's _the Hungary I know.

I smile back. "Bitch."

And we both laugh.

* * *

We're standing in one of the Prussian airports, Hungary agreeing to tag along with me and help out some.

"Where should we go?"

She frowns, tapping a silver-nail-polish tipped finger against her chin. "Japan."

_"Japan?_" I ask, slightly surprised. "Why? I was thinking I'd just half-ass it back to Moscow"-

"Today," she says simply.

"What?"

"Today is the World Meeting, and I think it's in Japan, so we should go there."

"The World Meeting," I repeat slowly. "Mein Gott, no. No."

"You have to," she says. "I actually think that's why America went to Moscow- so he and Russia could have their little business meeting and then go to Japan together."

"Who cares. But I don't want to go."

"Why not?" she asks. "There's a plane leaving in the perfect time. We should go."

"I'll have to see everyone," I say.

"Oh."

"I don't want to go."

"Man up!" Hungary insists, asking for two tickets to the Kansai International Airport.

"Think about what you are doing!" I exclaim, wondering if I can ask for a refund or just have them take back the tickets.

Hungary winks and taps her head. "I am. And what I know is, I'm more of a man than you'll ever be." She holds out her hand to me, taking the tickets with the other. "Coming, Prussia?"

I sigh and we start walking.


	7. I'm Sorry it Broke

A/N- Rain here! I just really would like to thank all of the reviewers of this story... and I do love you all! This chapter is LONG, I'm sorry- it was too short to be two chapters and yeah. Anyways, thanks! Mwah!

* * *

"Go on, Prussia." Hungary pokes me on the small of my back, encouraging me to move inside the room where I know there will be a long table surrounded by chattering, laughing, screaming nations.

Living nations.

"I... I can't." I turn back around.

Hungary slaps me across the face. "Come on, Prussia. Be a man. Be an awesome man."

"Ow. I'm glad that wasn't your frying pan." I rub my cheek, wincing.

"A frying pan? Oh, that gives me an idea!" Her green eyes light up. I sigh. In the 'Real World', I hated her (okay, we were kinda friends- I don't know), but now, it's so nice to have someone familiar, not just familiar but with the same personality.

"Fine," I grumble, pushing open the door slowly. Hundreds of eyes look up.

"Sorry we're late," Hungary grumbles. "Got held up at Kansai."

"Sit down, Prussia," Austria says, nodding towards the chair next to him. He sounds civilized, but his eyes are filled with that all-too-familiar rivalry. I really want to hug him and scream, "Hey, oh my God, hey," but I resort to sitting down next to him and refusing to draw attention to myself. But I'm pretty sure only Russia and Hungary know, though, so I should be safe there.

"Um..." There's an awkward silence.

And I realize: Germany's not here. There's no organization to the meeting.

"Right!" I stand up and clap, laughing like I know what's going on. "You all... um... so what's up?"

Japan frowns. "I am not so happy about hosting this Meeting, Prussia-san. Especially with America-san here."

"You're thisclose to a declaration of war, Japan," America hisses. For the first time I notice Russia, seated next to America. Russia leans down and says something to America, and the North American nation shuts his mouth and glares an icy stare at Japan.

I don't know how it starts, but suddenly everyone's yelling and screaming, people coughing up their drinks and glaring at each other.

"What war?" I ask Hungary.

"Oh... oh dear," she mutters. "America's all riled up because now that he's a crashed country, he's convinced Japan's going to take him over." She rolls her eyes. "Bullshit."

"But what about Hiroshima Na-" I break off, staring at her expectantly.

"Hiroshima-Nagasaki still happened," she says dully. "So you know that much."

"I... that's not..." I can't hear myself think in this racket.

"SHUT UP!" I scream. I guess I do have some of the screaming-gene Germany does, because everyone shuts up and stares at me.

Romano spits something out from the other end of the table. "You've no right to speak, you old Prussian bastard. Who's the one turning to Stefan? It's like the Netherlands turning to drug-"

"Shut it," hisses Denmark warily.

I feel an overwhelming urge of sadness. Everyone looks different, tired and more worn out, exhausted. They look how I feel.

"I didn't go to Stefan," I say evenly. "Shut your stupid mouth before you accuse the awesome me of stuff like that."

"That's right, Romano," growls Belarus. "He didn't go to Stefan. He went to Russia."

"But what about the _agreement?" _Ukraine murmurs.

"Wh- what? What agreement?" I turn to Hungary, but she looks away from me.

More whispers. I feel the crowd slipping from my control.

"Oh, you all are useless too!" I scream.

"Fuck off!"

"No, you shut up!"

So many accusations- America yelling at Japan, China siding with his 'little brother', Belarus screaming curse words at me, Hungary trying to defend me, Austria telling her to stop being so ditzy, Romano and Denmark in an argument about the Netherlands- everyone has someone to blame, and it makes me sick, sick beyond belief.

Hungary was right.

War is coming. So I leave.

"On a scale of one to ten, how normal was that Meeting?"

"Not normal at all," Hungary said, wiping tears from her eyes. The arguing got pretty bad, and people were starting to stand up and leave, shouting obscenities as they left the room.

"How long do you think we have until the war?"

Hungary shrugs. "I don't know."

"If I were dead, this wouldn't be happening..."

"You can't think like that."

"Prussia. Wait!" I stop and look over my shoulder to see Russia running after me.

"No. Walk faster," I whisper to Hungary, but she doesn't move.

Russia catches up to me, breathing heavily. "Prussia. I'm sorry. Did you go to Germany's"-

"I did," I say evenly. "I didn't see Stefan. Relax, stupid Commie."

"Let him worry," Hungary says. "It's cute. I totally ship you guys."

_"Hungary!" _Russia sighs.

_That's funny, Hungary. You can't ship us. You wouldn't _dare. _That would be considered an ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP._

At least, in the 'real world,' it would. Wouldn't it?

"Prussia? You're spacing out," Hungary says.

I shake my head. "You should probably get back to your precious America." I can't stop the hate that creeps into my voice, toxic and accusing.

"Wh- are you jealous?" Russia asks.

"No, of course not," I spit. "Why would I be jealous of America? He has a failing nation, poor, starving children, and it's all my fault, somehow." I cross my arms and keep walking. Russia and Hungary look at each other and follow.

"Prussia, I didn't mean"- Hungary begins, but I shake my head.

"Shut up, Hungary. First off, I want you guys to tell me everything. Everything that happened in the war, who's got a grudge against me, who's got a grudge against each other... _everything. _And what was that agreement Ukraine was talking about?"

"Oh." Russia sighs. "Let's get something to eat first."

"Y-yeah. I think that would be a good idea," Hungary says.

"Then let's find a good place to eat," I growl. "You two have a lot of explaining to do."

* * *

Of course the time wasn't really appropriate to be sharing weird Japanese food I had never heard of with a Russian and a Hungarian, but when is being a nation ever really convenient?

"I don't like chopsticks," Russia says.

"Oh, well, we're in Japan," Hungary mutters. "Cry me a river." It's strange, hearing nations talk to Russia like this. Everybody knows he's powerful, yes, but they're not scared of him in the way they were in my world.

"Whatever," I say. "Speak, you two. Who wants to go first?"

"He can," Hungary says, pointing at Russia. "After all, you saw him first, didn't you!"

"Da," Russia says. "I don't know how to explain, Prussia. Germany was dissolved. You know that."

"In place of me?"

"I... I guess so," he says. "Also a lot of countries are sort of scared of you. Oh! And the agreement my older sister mentioned... well, you weren't supposed to be allowed to come near me."

"Why not?" I ask, swallowing a mouthful of rice.

"Because America and Belarus agreed it," Hungary says.

I snort. "Oh, so I didn't get any say in the matter?"

"But you _did," _Russia insists. "There was a small dispute between you and Belarus. She and America won. You'll find she's even creepier to you than almost anybody else."

"And everyone's scared of me?" I verify.

"Da."

"Why?"

Hungary hesitates. "Because they're scared you'll hurt them."

"Like I did to America?"

Russia nods. Hungary turns to Russia. "He has almost all of his history right, I think, before World War Two. When did you say you died, Prussia?"

"1947." The words feel strange. "But the war was different."

"Different how?" Russia asks.

I pause. He was a major part of it. How history can even exist without that part, I'm not sure. "Well... you-" I'm cut off as the doors of the small restaurant swing open. My back is to the door, but Hungary and Russia's faces freeze. Hungary looks surprised, Russia terrified.

"Hey?" I turn around slowly, and-

Hungary's tea falls and I hear the shattering of glass, but I don't register it.

Because the second her eyes meet mine, I know shit's about to go down.

It's Belarus.

"This is great," Hungary whispers. "Real great."

"Wait, Belarus, you're-" Russia begins. Belarus pulls a knife out of her pocket, and I barely duck out of the way before the sharp silver blade implants itself in the wall, barely missing my head.

"H-hey!" I hear people screaming now, watching us, calling for help.

"Stay away from my Nii-san," she hisses. "Stay away, Prussia."

"I'm sorry," Russia says.

"It's broken," Belarus says, fury in her voice.

"W-what's broken?" I look over at Hungary, but her green eyes are terrified and furious. "Russia, you idiot! How does Belarus know Prussia was in your house? Idiot! Idiot!"

Belarus storms out of the restaurant, and I pry the knife from the wall. "What's broken?" I insist.

"The agreement is broken," Russia says. "You broke your agreement with America and Belarus to not come near me."

"I didn't know!" I protest. "I woke up in your house- wasn't it okay? So what happens now that the agreement or what shit is broken?"

"Well, Prussia." Hungary's fingers drum the table nervously. "They're going to declare war on you."


	8. Street Crossing

A/N- Again thank you for the reviews. Really! This chapter is a little too dramatic, but honestly, I'm too tired to re-type it. But thanks!

* * *

War.

I repeat the word in my head.

"Nein," I say. "I didn't know."

"But they don't know you didn't know," Hungary says. "But if they did know, I'm sure they would take advantage of you."

I slump in my seat. "How did Belarus know?"

Russia facepalms. "I'm sure America told her. I'm such an idiot, why didn't I think of the fact you and America had the Agreement between-"

"Yesss, you idiot!" Hungary hisses, snapping one of her chopsticks in half. "Because you weren't thinking at all, this could cause a huge conflict! And with America's temper, I'm sure he'll just do everything on his To-Do List and declare war on Japan, too! The poor nation just finished paying off his debts."

Debts that should have been Germany's.

"Don't give me that, Hungary," Russia says. His voice is cold and unforgiving- the voice of the Russia I know. "Japan chose to fling himself into conflict. He knew very well what could happen. Besides, this agreement is old. I forgot about it. I know it's not good."

"Well, Prussia sure as hell didn't!" Hungary screeches.

"I said I'm sorry, didn't I?"

It's awful. Hungary picks up the teapot on the table and shoves it at Russia. More music of shattering glass; people screaming. Russia takes my plate (food et al) and throws it right back. And then they're all out fighting, Russia trying to hit Hungary, Hungary defending herself and kicking at him, tossing cups and bowls. Then the restaurant owner is throwing himself between the two of them, yelling in Japanese.

Before I know it, all three of us are standing on the patch of street outside of the restaurant, the owner telling us to please _please _never come back until we can calm down.

"That was so great, you two," I sneer. "So great."

"S-sorry." Hungary looks embarrassed. She has some rice sticking to a strand of her hair, and a bit of blood is trickling out of a cut on Russia's forehead. "I have never done that before."

"What? Chucked teapots at Russia?" I say.

"No," she replies. "Gotten that angry."

"You totally beat like a million of my soldiers that one time with Austria or something," I say.

She laughs. "Yeah."

And suddenly all I want is to go back to that little jump in time, the place where things stopped making sense. World War Two, maybe? I want to go back to the place where two worlds split in half- the world I know and the world I'm in.

I want to go back and fix whatever's wrong there.

"Wait," I say. "About the agreement. You said America took Belarus' side? But I talked to him. After you beat up Stefan. He didn't say anything about the Agreement to me."

Russia shrugs. "He never really wanted to go through with the law as much as my little sister did. He just took her side because... he wanted to. He gave her some soldiers, gave her some aid. But I don't think he ever really cared about her. He just wanted to keep you away from me. And he doesn't really enforce the agreement as much as she does."

_So he doesn't care about her? _I feel bad for a second, but then I remember. _Well, it's not like Belarus cares about America or anything. She only cares about Russia._

"So about this war," I say.

"Oh, I'm sure Japan will take your side," Hungary says.

"Against America?"

Russia coughs. "Remember, Prussia, you saw how they are right now..."

"Oh! Right. Why are they like that? Not awesome. When I-"

"I'm sure Japan isn't going to take over America," Hungary replies. "But they used to be a lot closer than they are now."

"What about Ukraine?" I ask, not bothering to wonder about Russia's opinion. One side has me. The other has his sister and his... whatever America is. No way in hell would he ever pick me.

"She's a whore," Hungary says brightly.

"Excuse me?" Russia growls.

Hungary's eyes widen. "O-oh. I mean, a _nice _whore."

"He doesn't remember, Hungary," Russia says. "And don't you dare call Ukraine a whore again. That's okay, da?"

"Remember what?" I ask as we start walking down the street.

"That you-" Hungary is interrupted by a scathing cough.

"Prussia, you've got some nerve." It's America.

"Did-" Russia begins, but America cuts him off. "Look! I didn't say anything to Belarus. Even though Prussia's the worst bastard of them all, I didn't want a war to start. I mean, with Japan, yes. But with him? No! Not right now!"

"How did Belarus find out, then?" Hungary asks, her voice skeptical.

"Dunno. I just left the meeting," America says. "Dude, there's a couple of countries in there, still trying to salvage what they can of the meeting. But it's not working. The place is a mad house. Look, there's Norway over there." He points across the street, but the Nordic is walking away from us. So the Meeting failed.

"So are you going to call of the war?" Russia asks. "Maybe try to talk some sense into Belarus?"

"Hell no," America says. "It's declared, it's broken. I didn't want this to happen, but it did. So, Prussia, prepare yourself."

"I'm sorry," I say.

America stomps his foot. "Shut up. You took everything away from me." He starts walking the other way.

He doesn't stop to look as he crosses the busy street. A car hurtles straight for him.

"America, wait!" Hungary screeches.

Russia's eyes widen. "AMERICA!"

"Wha?" America turns to his right, and for a second, I see sheer terror in his eyes as he notices the car. Out of habit, maybe it's all the years of military training or West's drills, I launch myself into the street, shoving him across to the other side, shoving him to safety, and throwing myself right into the path of the car.


	9. Textbooks

"Hey, Bruder. I have a present for you."

"Uhh?" I open my eyes sleepily. I'm lying in the damned field again! The place where it rained but not a single drop got on me! Not this dream or whatever it is. The familiar gray sky, the perfect, cool temperature...

And Germany.

"West!" I jump up. "What's going on? What's happening?"

"Calm down," he says, his voice full of authority, even though he's older.

"Tell me," I whisper, "did you win the war?"

He pauses. "No."

"Will I win this war with Belarus? Do you know?"

"I don't know," he says. "Shh. It will be alright, Prussia. Also, thank you for visiting my grave the other day."

"What happened?" I yell. "Are you dead? Am I dead?"

"It depends," he says. "I can't give you the information you want, Bruder. I'm sorry."

"I miss you," I say. "I don't like this- I don't like it at all."

"Well, then, maybe this gift will help a little," he says, pulling something out of seemingly nowhere. A large hardcover book.

"A _book?" _I say. Sure, I'm grateful and all, but West knows I'm not all into reading. I could barely tolerate those little kid books I read him when he was young!

"Read," he says. "It's more than you think."

"Alright." I flip open to a random page and skim over the first paragraph I see.

_1945-1991. Cold War. A decade-long 'war' between America and the former USSR, in other words, a race of technological advances. _Oh, right. I had forgotten about that. But I was only alive for two years of it, and I had somewhat more worrisome things to take care of than bragging rivalry between the USSR and America. I flip to another page.

_November 9th, 1989. Fall of the Berlin Wall._

Page after page of dates, pictures, names, wars... The book has new meaning. "Is this...?"

Germany nods. "Ja. It's a history textbook. A present day history textbook. From the world you left."

"How do I get back?" I exclaim. "Please, tell me. I want you to be alive again! I can't live there anymore!"

"Be careful," Germany says. "This is not a game. Nor is it a parallel universe. If one world exists, the other cannot."

"Are you telling me none of this really happened, then?" I hold up the real textbook angrily. He's not making any sense.

"It happened," Germany says. "Hmm. Think of it this way, Prussia. The other world exists, but it's frozen."

"Can I get back to my world, then?" Hysteria is threatening to take over.

"Ja," Germany says. "But tread lightly, Prussia. Ich liebe dich." He smiles for a second. "Also, Bruder, that was a nice stunt you pulled, burning Russia's house down before you died. Was it on your bucket list?"

"Wait-" I begin, but the vision is fading from my eyes.

Sunlight streams onto me. I feel it. It's warm, and I crinkle my nose, opening my eyes slowly.

"Prussia!"

"Easy, Hungary," America says. He's sitting in a chair. And I realize where I am- in the hospital. "Prussia's probably tired. After all, he did some amazing things." I frown, searching for sarcasm in America's voice or face or eyes, but he looks sincere.

_Thank you._

"Beilschmidt-san," a nurse says, her Japanese accent light. Her dark hair is up in a bun, and she's tapping a pen on a clipboard. "I can't believe you survived. That accident had enough force to kill... I don't even know. You are certainly lucky, lucky beyond belief."

_Not lucky, Frau. A country. There's a difference. _

Russia, Hungary and America are sitting around, and I know they're thinking it, too: that I didn't die because I can't physically die. I wish I could.

"And you hardly have any injuries," she continues. "You actually can be released from the hospital at your earliest convenience. But..." there's a frown. "Why did you run into the street? Were you feeling okay?"

Ohh. She thinks it was a suicide or something. She's probably already researched mental hospitals.

"Actually, he saved my sorry-" America starts, but Hungary throws a hand over his mouth.

"No," I lie. "I guess I just wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry. Really, I didn't mean to."

"Okay..." she pauses. "Well, I'll leave you." She gives me a quick bow and walks the other way.

"There's stuff in that drawer," Russia says. "Toiletries, and a change of clothes. We'll be waiting outside."

America looks over his shoulder at me. "Hey, dude, Hungary and I are going to see if we can find a cafeteria or something. You can come along when you're ready, if you want to." I think he forgave me. Then they take their leave, and I can hear footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Russia waits for Hungary and America to exit the room, and then he turns to me for a quick second.

"Prussia, thank you for saving America. I mean, he's not saying anything, but he's actually pretty weak right now."

"Ja..." I open the drawer and jump back in surprise.

"What? What?" Russia says.

"It's nothing. Nothing!" I bark. "Get out, Russia! I'm trying to change. Don't be a Communist _and _a perv. Get OUT!" I shove him out into the hall and slam the door, returning to the drawer.

I didn't jump because I didn't want Russia to see me get dressed (although that's not exactly on my list of things I _want _to happen).

I jumped because, lying on top of a pair of clean, neatly folded clothes and a bag of toiletries, is Germany's history textbook.


	10. Secrets Are No Fun

I don't know if Russia planned on doing this or not, but it's happening. America and I are sitting alone each on one side of a booth, a basket of pommes frites (or French fries) pushed in the center of the table. For some reason, Hungary was insistent we all came back to Prussia, and one day after my hospital release, here we are. (I tore through the History textbook, and it's close by.) Hungary and Russia are in the bathrooms. I'm sure they coordinated this so I'd be alone with America.

Probably just testing, setting their limits, waiting to see what happens.

"So," I say, glancing around.

"So."

"You used to be a lot more talkative," I say.

America looks at me. "What?"

"Nothing." I grab a fry. "So," I repeat.

He takes a deep breath. "Hey, look. I- I'm thinking about asking Belarus to back off," America says, trying to sound casual.

"W-why?"

"Well, because, like, you took the car for me and everything. And of course you didn't _die _or anything, but, um... maybe. I don't know."

"So you forgive me?"

He shakes his head once. "What you did was wrong."

"Shoving you out of the way?"

"No, before that." He closes his eyes. "I thought, when the war was finally over, 'Oh, look. Secnod world war, we can relax.' But then you invaded me."

"I know," I say. "I'm sorry."

"It's... it's not okay," America says. "But I'm not exactly mad anymore."

I hear the sadness in his voice. I stand up. "You're right."

He looks up, surprised.

"It's _not _okay. I really get that. I really understand, more than you know, America. And trust me- I know it's not okay to have to deal with the consequences of other people's actions. I swear I'm not being sarcastic or whatever. And I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." My voice trembles on the last word. "Ja."

America's quiet for a second, then he smiles. "Prussia, you're pretty fucking awesome."

* * *

For the second time, I see my house.

"Ooh!" Hungary squeals. "I call the guest room with the really big window!"

"Nyet," Russia says. "I was going to call that one." You know it's bad when your guests know your house better than you do.

"Sorry, it's _mine!" _Hungary says, and I have a sudden memory of how she used to act when we were little, all bitchy and smart but funny and strong, too. Back when she thought she was a guy, heh.

"I'm going to call Belarus," America says. "Shut up, you guys."

We sit on some of the huge couches I have, Hungary and I on one, Russia and America on the other. It's night outside, the sky dark, so I have all the lights on, and Hungary rests her head against my shoulder. Normally I would push her off, but I can tell it's a sign of friendship and not love, plus everything is so chaotic right now.

"I'll put it on speaker, but you all better not dare say anything or I'll shank you with a pencil."

I throw up my hands. "Ja, ja, alright."

"Hey, Belarus," America says.

"Oh. Hello."

"So, about the war with Prussia..."

"What?" she barks.

"Chill out," America says. "I was just thinking, maybe you should call it off."

Belarus pauses, disbelieving. "But he _broke it, _America! You idioooot!" Hungary jolts her head away from my shoulder, startled by the blood-chilling scream. Russia winces.

"I know!" America growls. "I know. But in his defense, why is it so wrong for him to visit Russia?"

"Oh, you poor, poor child." Belarus' voice takes on a sweet, creepy tone. "Didn't you hear, darling?"

I look over at Hungary, and she shrugs, mystified.

"Hear about what?" America asks.

"It doesn't matter if you attack Prussia or not- Nii-san is going to hurt him, too!"

It takes me a second to realize what she's saying, but- "What?" Russia and I scream at the same time.

"They were listening?" Belarus shrieks. "America, you bastard!" She hangs up.

America stares at Russia and me. "You guys..."

Hungary coughs, shocked. "Russia, you didn't say anything about this."

"She's lying, right!" I exclaim.

Russia shakes his head. "My God. How did she hear?"

_"Hear?" _America asks. "You mean it's true? Russia, that's pretty... low."

I spin to Russia. "You lied to me."

"Nyet, Prussia, you see-"

"YOU LIED TO ME!" I shout. "You _knew_ I didn't have a clue about anything. And you lied! You never told me you were planning to attack me! You said you would tell me everything! I mean, yeah, of course you didn't tell me, but when you heard what happened to me, you should have. _So call it off!"_

"Russia!" Hungary says. "I thought we agreed to tell Prussia _everything."_

America's eyes dart around. "What? What do you mean?"

"Okay, fine," Russia says coldly. "Go on, Hungary. Tell him about Ukraine. Tell him why you think she's such a whore."

"Oh my God!" Hungary screams. "You did not just say that, Russia! Shut up!"

"You're the one who brought it up earlier, da? Remember?"

Hungary's crying now. "No, I didn't mean- I thought that after she..."

America and I are totally lost. Everyone is, for different reasons, until the doorbell rings.

I walk to the front door and answer, leaving the other three nations arguing in the living room. "Hallo."

"Hallo, Prussia." Standing there, smiling, is Stefan. I should have checked to see who it was before I opened the door. "I'm guessing now isn't the best time."

"Nein, not really," I say. "Sorry, I'm awfully busy, and-"

He laughs and grabs me by the wrist. "Too bad, we can't let Russia see me. Let's go."


End file.
